


what's my age again?

by Over_the_Love204



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Bromance, Brotp, F/M, Family, Friendship, Game of Thrones References, Gen, call of the wild references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:06:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Over_the_Love204/pseuds/Over_the_Love204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one in which Damon is turned into a mischievous toddler and must age as a human, leaving Stefan as his primary care giver as he juggles taking care of his newly turned baby brother, his relationship with Elena, and the fact that Matt and Tyler have adopted him into their pseudo football brotherhood.  And as always, the town is brimming with supernatural activity and (as always) it appears Stefan is the only one appropriately armed to take care of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's my age again?

_“When I was younger_  
I told my mother  
I say, one day I'm gonna make you proud  
  
Now that I'm older  
It's so much harder  
To say those words out loud  
  
You're growing taller  
A little smarter  
And one day you're gonna leave home.”

_._

_._

_._

_It_ happens on a day when the sun was round and beaming with blinding luminosity and children were running through on the sidewalks with happy, trilling laughter.  School had let out and they were exultant to be out of the confines of the brick building and out in the refreshing air.  It was _also_ a Tuesday; the day of the week in which unexplainable or turbulent phenomena occurred more often than not.

Stefan, who was secretly just as happy as those ten year olds to be out of the stuffy educational building, carried his messenger bag over his right shoulder and he waved with his left hand to Elena as she climbed into Bonnie Bennett’s car, along with Caroline Forbes.  Instead of going to the traditional Founder’s Party that evening, the girls were going on a trip in Atlanta for a concert of one of the miscellaneous pop bands that Stefan didn’t care much about, and were skipping two days in the process.  The town was still reeling from Mr. Tanner’s death, and the escape from a town full of “animal” attacks would serve them good anyway, said Elena’s Aunt Jenna with a wink.  Stefan and Elena had said their good byes just as school had ended, all fake-happy smiles and lingering looks and wandering hands.

The three cheerleaders pulled out of the school lot and disappeared down the road, taking their overheard chatter with them and leaving Stefan standing on the sidewalk with his lowering arm.  He was secretly relieved of the girls’ trip; Elena had become a little suspicious of Stefan’s secret in the last few days, and she was beginning to research what just it was about Stefan Salvatore that made him tick.  Stefan hitched his messenger bag a little higher and took a firmer hold and turned to find a place of cover so he could use his enhanced speed and endurance to make it back to the Boarding House quickly

“Hey!  Salvatore!” A deep, carrying voice shouted in his direction, stilling Stefan.  The one hundred and sixty-one year old vampire was ashamed to admit that he had started first, surprised at the attention; after all, he was new, non-sociable, and a bit of a smartass when provoked.  Who’d want to talk to him except for his girlfriend and her two teenage friends? 

Green eyes flicked upwards and toward the origin of the loud noise; Matt Donovan was walking towards Stefan with a pained grimace that was trying to be a smile, and Tyler Lockwood, who was not even attempting to hide the derision he felt for Stefan.  The vampire forced a polite smile on his face and shifted so that he was facing his incoming acquaintances and hoped for the best.

“Hey,” Matt repeated when he got there with Tyler on his heels, half a second later.  The Quarterback looked uncomfortable now that he was actually in front of the boy who had “taken” his girlfriend, so to speak.

“Hi,” Stefan nodded and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets awkwardly.  In the part of his mind that wasn’t preoccupied with thoughts of this new development, he wondered what havoc Damon was causing that day; his brother wouldn’t be hurting Caroline for at least two days, (three, counting that Tuesday) which was welcome after the fiasco earlier that week with the dinner and then at the football game.

“I was thinking, maybe you wanted some . . . friends?  I mean, people to hang out with besides my ex . . .” Matt trailed off, clearly uncomfortable and unsure, “You don’t seem to have any others . . .” Stefan was startled; he’d had no expectation of making friends, especially with Elena’s ex, as Matt had eloquently put it.  Tyler looked about as excited as Stefan felt when Damon made his spontaneous visits – which somehow made Stefan feel better about the whole thing, actually – and his brows were pulled down in a fierce glower.

The idea sparked a little longing in Stefan; it was appealing, the thought of having friends to talk to and hang out with (besides his dear friend, Lexi, who was seemingly always busy this decade) . . .

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that,” Stefan was quick to reply when his wits (and rationality) returned to him. “Like you said yourself, you’re Elena’s ex and I think it would just be uncomfortable for all of us.”  Stefan pulled his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms, a movement that was quickly mirrored by Tyler, who took an aggressive step forwards but had yet to say anything.  “I mean, it would be great if we got along, but . . .”

“He’s offering to be your friend when you’re an anti-social dick who just got together with his the love of his life,” Tyler snapped, “You’re a sorry ass, but Matt’s a good guy, so just take the offer.”

This might have been the oddest thing to happen to him, Stefan realized, but he also felt a little touched, for he didn’t have that many friends to start with, anyway.  (Lexi and Elena; did Caroline and Bonnie count?  Um, Zach?)

“Thank you,” Stefan said, still slightly awkward, “That’s . . . thanks.”

Matt was just as uncomfortable, really, and Tyler rolled his eyes at them.  “Want to get something to eat at the Grill?”

Stefan hitched his messenger bag up again and finally nodded.  “Sure.”  The three teenage boys left the school building together, the sun beating on the back of their necks while others skateboarded, walked, and biked around them, nattering about inane things.

They road in Matt’s beat up truck, with Tyler riding shotgun and Stefan in the back, seated just behind them; Tyler had scooted the front seat up with a mocking flourish and Stefan hopped in and settled down on the bench.  They drove to the Mystic Grill while conversing stiltedly until Tyler hit the radio, sending it on with a few sparks and vibrations.  Bon Jovi filled the car and Stefan felt his lips twitch upwards into a smile for the first time that afternoon.

Stefan nodded along, and Tyler shot him a side eyed glance, and a ghost of a smile appeared on Matt’s face.

“My best friend and I love Bon Jovi,” He explained quickly, “We would have appreciated the chance to go a concert back at the height of his success.”

Tyler snorted loudly, making both Matt and Stefan glance at him.  “Who the hell talks like that, dude?  You sound like you stepped out of an effing textbook.” _You have no idea,_ Stefan thought, but only arched his brows and shrugged, uncertain of how to correct his era mistake.  Of the most difficult things to adjust to from decade to decade was most definitely the slang, especially among people his physical age.

They arrived at the Grill a moment later, halting all conversations as they climbed out of the car and found seats at a table.  The _Mystic Grill and Bar_ was busy that afternoon; it was bustling with families and students, all eager to meet with each other and eat after a long day.  The drinks were flowing easily for a Tuesday, but lemonade was more popular than almost anything else because of the sweltering heat outside.

They ordered burgers and fries and while they waited for it, Stefan let the conversation of his table wash over him. Matt and Tyler mostly talked about girls and women and playboys; things regular teenage boys talked and jeered about together.

“So, Stefan,” Tyler drawled, and his eyes held a spark of mischief as he spoke, “Where did you move from?  Any parents?”

“I’ve traveled around,” Stefan replied vaguely, but quickly realized that that wouldn’t settle his new ‘friends’, so he elaborated, “I moved from Atlanta to live with my Uncle Zach because of my parents’ deaths.”

Matt winced.  “Sorry about your parents, man.”

Tyler barely faltered.  “Got any siblings?”

“Not any that I talk to,” Stefan said, quick witted, and stirred his water with the straw he wasn’t using.  His left hand twitched under the table as his phone vibrated; he ignored the ringing.

“But you have some then,” Tyler was quicker on his feet than Stefan had originally credited him for.  “Bad fall out?”

“Lay off, Ty,” Matt warned quietly, blue eyes bright with hidden concern. 

“Something like that,” Stefan nodded stiffly, “My brother and I don’t really get along anymore; we haven’t for many years.”

“You say that like you’re older than seven or eighteen,” Tyler said with arched brows and penetrating eyes.  Even Matt looked a little intrigued.

“Feels like it,” Stefan said vaguely and his phone vibrated again.  A pretty waitress delivered their food and they dug in, Stefan with less of a relish than the actual teenage boys.  The conversation flowed a little easier as they moved on to different topics, until they hit the snag that Stefan was dreading – and it reminded him instantly of the night at Elena’s with Damon and Caroline.

“So, have a lot of girlfriends?” Tyler asked with smirk.  He was clearly asking all the questions that Matt was burning to ask, but was too polite to.

“Not many.” Stefan felt himself twitch.  “The relationships never ended well.”

“Why’s that?” _Um, because all the girls he loved ended up dead?_

“Tyler, lay off,” Matt interceded again, “That’s like asking why _your_ relationships never last, which, by the way, is because you act like a douchebag.” Stefan shot him a grateful look, which Matt returned with a nod, and they moved on to safer topics until Stefan was finally able to escape the evening by claiming a lot of homework.

.

.

.

Stefan got home as soon as he was physically able, drained and hungry for real food; the deer blood he’d bottled and put in the fridge that morning before he’d left for school.  He dropped his messenger bag on one of antique chairs in the foyer and headed straight for the kitchen and dining room.

He scarfed down the blood, feeling his fangs elongate and the veins underneath his eyes appear clearly on his face.  His eyesight was clearer like this, and it seemed like he could even see the dust particles in the air as they floated across his line of sight. 

Stefan set the bottle in the sink when he was finished, sighing with pleasure and licking his lips, but he was barely satisfied; animal blood was hardly the most fulfilling thing around.  He heard a loud thump, which startled Stefan into looking upwards.  A moment later, a harried Zach Salvatore stormed into the kitchen, his face inflamed with anger and his limbs trembling from the force he was clearly using to suppress the heady emotion.

“I called you several times,” Zach snapped as soon as he opened his mouth and Stefan stiffened despite himself.

“What happened?  Did Damon try to hurt you?” Stefan immediately honed his senses, looking for Damon’s presence in the house.

Zach let out a bellowing laugh that held no good humor at all.  “Did Damon hurt me?  Well, when he kicked me in the shin, yes, that hurt quite a bit.  When he bit me?  Oh yes, that hurt like a bitch too.” He held up his right hand and Stefan walked forwards to inspect the marks on his wrist; there were tiny teeth marks that had been made by someone much smaller than a person of Damon’s size.

“I don’t understand . . .” Stefan trailed off, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Stefan!” A high pitched voice positively squealed and green eyes flicked around the room and finally settled on the streaking child that was sprinting towards Stefan in nothing but the skin he was born in.  Clear blue eyes and dark hair adorned his features along with pale skin and chubby limbs were all that Stefan saw before the mass of child threw himself at Stefan, clinging.  Automatically, Stefan caught him and he lifted his arms up, holding what appeared to be a toddler around two to three years of age.

“Stefan!” The boy squealed excitedly again, revealing a set of small, pearly white baby teeth.

“Damon got himself cursed by a witch; who, I have no idea, but it doesn’t surprise me,” Zach explained with glowering eyes and pursed lips. “That’s all that I could guess, anyway.  It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it, but it feels like I’m being punished as well.” Stefan held Damon a little tighter to himself as Zach continued. “Listen to me, Stefan; Damon is not my problem.  You’re going to take care of him and get him turned back, and I’m done with watching over _that menace_.” He crossed his arms and left an incredulous Stefan and the tiny, hyperactive Damon in the kitchen.

“Um, hello,” Stefan looked down at Damon’s curious and open face.  “You clearly, ah, remember me.”

“Yeeeeeees,” Damon drew out slowly, “Slow, dumb-dumb.”

“I’m slow?” Stefan asked uncertainly and his hands tightened around his brother; he was so small and feather-light.  How much of that was due to size and/or Stefan’s enhanced strength, he didn’t know. 

“Dumb-dumb very slow,” Damon nodded decisively and wriggled in Stefan’s hold.  “Want down, dumb-dumb.”

“In a minute,” Stefan murmured, “How old are you, Damon?”

“Old,” Damon said and the duh was seemingly implied.

“So, you remember everything?” Stefan asked and his brows furrowed even further.

“Some stuff,” Damon shrugged and wriggled again, “A switchy did a spell and poof!” He spread his arms wide and his eyes widened into saucers, “Now I’mma beebee!”

“So, a witch turned you into a . . . two year old?  But you remember being a vampire?” Stefan clarified, to make certain.  One could never be too careful and he was going off of the logic of a toddler.

“I’m almost tree, Dumb-Dumb,” Damon huffed, “Down!”

“In a minute, okay?  Let’s find you some clothes,” Stefan said firmly, which only made Damon indignant and struggle more strongly.  So, Damon had pissed off a largely powerful witch and she’d transformed him into a two (nearly three) year old child. 

Just a regular Tuesday.

“No!” Damon shrieked, “No!  Down, Dumb-Dumb, down!”

Stefan used his enhanced speed to rush up the stairs to the attic.  He quickly dug around and (remarkably) found some pint sized clothes that would work until Stefan could purchase another outfit (and it would _only_ be one, because Stefan _would_ get this solved and get his older brother back, even if he was a selfish, murderous dick).

“Now, let’s get to a friend’s house, shall we?  She’ll solve everything.”

Damon only stuck out his bottom lip and Stefan sighed heavily.  “Right.”

.

.

.

Stefan took Damon to Sheila Bennett’s home via Damon’s sky blue Camaro, and despite his brother’s protests, made him wear his seatbelt.

“I don’t have a car seat and I’m fairly sure that you’re not a vampire anymore,” Stefan explained patiently, “If someone crashes into us, you’ll get hurt.”

Sheila’s neighborhood was quiet and mostly for retired elderly folks, so there were no nosy children peeking out their windows from behind curtains, though a few curious gossiper mongers did stick their heads out their front doors or look up from the knitting on their front porches and rocking chairs.  Stefan smiled and nodded to them all while Damon made vrooming noises with his arms stuck out and he ran in circles around Stefan’s legs.  Quite a few elderly women gave him indulgent looks and huffed soft laughter.  Stefan knocked on the door and stilled Damon with a hand on his head and they waited for the witch to open the door.

“Stefan Salvatore?” She arched her brows.  “My granddaughter mentioned your name, but I wasn’t sure . . . but what brings you to my door today?”

At his knee, Damon opened his mouth and started to chatter, “I’m ‘pposed to be big, but a switch-“

“Witch,” Stefan gently corrected.

“-turned me inta a beebee!”

“Don’t laugh,” Stefan warned as Sheila’s lips twitched upwards into a smile and the elderly witch leant on her door hinge.

“I think I like him better this way,” Sheila said sardonically with a hand on her hip.  “Can we keep him like this?”

“I was hoping you might be able to help me turn him back,” Stefan admitted and Sheila sighed.

“I’ll look up some things this evening.  You run along and take care of him until then, you hear?” Sheila gave him a significant look.  “Keep him out of trouble.”

“Yes ma’am,” Stefan nodded and lifted Damon up, settling him on his hip as he waved good bye to Sheila.

“Bring him back around tomorrow!” The witch hollered after him, “I’ll see if there is any residential magic left behind.” Stefan nodded again and settled Damon back into the car and headed to the store; he’d need to buy some toddler friendly things, including clothes and food.

“Do two year olds need diapers?” Stefan wondered aloud to himself and chanced a look at Damon’s face as it was pressed against the glass as they drove quickly through the town; the little boy’s clear blue eyes were round with curiosity.  “Probably,” He decided.

.

.

.

Stefan ended up buying diapers and pull-ups just in case, along with a couple of days’ worth of outfits for Damon, children’s food, and a car seat.  If the spell to turn his brother back more time, he’d return to the store for more items.

Zach gave them a wide berth during dinner time, and Stefan could swear that he heard his nephew stifling unwanted laugher when Stefan gave given Damon a quick bath afterwards in an attempt to wash off the food that had mostly ended up on Damon’s clothes rather than in his mouth.  None of that had been a major issue, but bedtime was quickly becoming one.

“No sleep!” Damon shrieked and somehow he’d shed his pants and shirt and was dashing as fast as a toddler could around Stefan’s bedroom.  “No sleep, no sleep!”

“Yes sleep, yes sleep,” Stefan muttered and sat Damon on the bed for the fifth time.  “Do you want to sleep by yourself in your big, dark room or would you rather stay in here?”

Damon sniffled and his blue eyes welled with tears; it was the only warning Stefan had before the toddler burst into loud sobs.  Stefan scooped him up and cradled Damon in his arms, standing and rocking his brother.  He started to hum a quiet lullaby that their mother had sung to him when he and Damon were young and he started to walk quietly around the room, hoping it would calm the distressed child.  _Shouldn’t have said anything_ , he scolded himself in his thoughts.

The clock ticked on and Damon’s cries petered off as the hour hand edged towards the one AM mark.  Stefan tipped his head down and looked at Damon’s delicate features and flushed cheeks and moved over to his bed, gently setting the toddler down and tucking him in.  Stefan slid in next to his brother and closed his eyes, breathing in relief.

Sleep, at last, came to him.

.

.

.

The next day was a wet, stormy Wednesday in Virginia, but a sunny and hot one in Atlanta, where Elena and her best friends were.  Stefan woke early to find Damon sucking his thumb and snoring, and Stefan discreetly snapped a quick picture with his phone and saved it for later; Damon wouldn’t believe him when he turned back, and Stefan would need evidence.

He flashed up and got the fastest shower he’d ever taken in his life, excited at the prospect of getting his older brother back to his mocking, snarky self by breakfast.  When he came out, dressed up to his perfectly coifed hair, Damon was blinking up bleary blue eyes.

“Hungry,” Damon announced gravely, without a single trace of a smile, and so Stefan nodded his head as seriously as he could.

He bent down on his knee, saying, “Of course.”   Stefan snatched a pair of new clothes and diaper for his brother and continued, “But first, let’s get dressed, alright?  We don’t want to scare Uncle Zach again.” Damon’s lips parted in a delighted smile at the prospect, but he allowed Stefan to quickly do as he said he would, changing Damon’s soiled clothing.

They went down the stairs where they proceeded to avoid Zach and then feed each other cheerios (and bunny blood, for Stefan) before they escaped the cavernous and haunting Boarding House for Sheila’s quiet and homey neighborhood.

The elderly witch came to her door faster this time and didn’t hesitate before she invited Stefan and Damon inside the house.  She eyed him carefully and warned him appropriately – if he went off the rails, he’d be finding himself in deep trouble and Sheila would do what was necessary (which Stefan felt both relieved and grateful for).

“Now, let me see you,” Sheila said firmly but kindly to Damon, and she beckoned him closer to her.  Damon’s hands clung to Stefan’s knees and he shook his head wildly.

“Stay with Dumb-Dumb.”

“I’ll be with you,” Stefan said quietly, “but you need to let Sheila see if she can find a way to turn you back into a big boy.” He stood and walked with Damon, who wore a betrayed pout, over to Sheila.  The elderly witch placed a hand lightly on Damon’s tiny shoulder and started to murmur Latin under her breath.  The air in the room became dry and full of static for several seconds before it started to swirl like a winter’s icy chill.  The room seemed to grow cold and dark, and Stefan tightened his grip on Damon’s other hand.  The toddler squeezed back, almost reassuringly.

All at once, the cold and dark disappeared back into the shadows of the living room, and Sheila was releasing Damon from her hold.  As Damon climbed up into Stefan’s lap, the vampire’s oak green eyes were searching out the wizened ones of Sheila.

“Well?” He asked quietly.  “What can you do?”

Sheila said nothing at first, only sitting on a chair in her living room, and pouring herself a cup of tea from her China set on the coffee table.  She sat back on the upholstery and sipped her tea, eyes never leaving Stefan’s.  Damon didn’t seem to recognize the serious atmosphere and had taken to making vroom sounds with his mouth like he was a car.

Finally, Sheila spoke with a barely a glance at Damon’s hyperactive form, “Normally, I’d say that the spell would wear off in its own time.  However, the witch that did this had . . . familiar magic.”

“. . . familiar magic?  As in other Bennett’s?” Stefan asked slowly as his brows furrowed in thought.  Damon had hopped off his lap and was now across the room (still making vroom noises), but with his arms stuck out like an airplane and was running in circles.

“Yes,” Sheila nodded her head, “It appears that Damon has angered some of my relatives and they’ve cast something powerful on Damon, including a binding spell so that not even _they_ could remove the original cast.  I’m afraid that your brother is to live out his life as a human until if or when you or he so desire to turn him back into a vampire when he’s older.”

Stefan was slightly ashamed to admit that his brain stopped working for about ten seconds.

“What?” He hissed quietly.

Sheila leveled him a look.  “You heard me.”

“But . . . who . . . ?”

Sheila actually laughed aloud.  “As much as I like you, Stefan Salvatore, I’m not about to tell you that.  I know how you Salvatore’s are; you’d be after those witches as soon as I uttered their names.”

Stefan fumed silently, but knew that she was right; he was angry on his brother’s behalf.  His eyes strayed to his little big brother, who had been distracted by something in the window at that point.  Could he raise his brother?  What would they do when he got old enough to miss being a vampire?  _Would_ he miss being a vampire?  Would he want Stefan to turn him again?  Would _Stefan_ want him to turn again?  They were vampires because of Stefan, after all, he knew.  If he’d just left his brother be . . .

Well, they were vampires because Stefan _couldn’t_ leave his brother be, even if it meant damning him to this life.  Maybe he’d make the right choice this time.  Or maybe he’d finally let _Damon_ make his own choice.

“Thank you, Sheila,” Stefan said formally and he stood to collect Damon.

“You can drop on by another time if you need to,” Sheila said mildly and Stefan put Damon on his hip.

“Bye Ms. Switch!” Damon called back.

“Ms. Witch – Sheila,” Stefan corrected Damon and then himself, to both Sheila and Damon’s delight.  He sped out of the door with Damon and headed away from the Bennett house.  They walked on the sidewalk with Damon babbling a mile a minute, sometimes intelligible (but more often not).

Stefan heard turning wheels on blacktop before a truck pulled up next to him.  Dreading running into his first townsperson, Stefan’s eyes flicked upwards to find Matt and Tyler leaning out the windows of the truck.

“Who’s kid?” Tyler hollered.

Without a second’s thought or hesitation, Stefan replied, “Mine.” And then thought about what he’d said.  Matt’s eyes were large and round, almost popping out of his skull, while Tyler was struck silent for the first time since Stefan had met him.

Well, there was no taking it back now.

“What’s his name?” Matt asked somberly.

“Damon.” Stefan shifted his brother on his hip awkwardly.  Damon stuck his thumb into his mouth and watched Tyler and Matt with curious big blue eyes.

“I thought you had an older brother named Damon?” Tyler asked suspiciously.

“You must have heard wrong,” Stefan said before Damon could reply either way. “Look, I’ve really got to go.”

“Dude,” Tyler called back incredulously, “you can’t just announce you have a brat and then take off.”

“Not a brat,” Damon stuck out his tongue.

“He’s not a brat,” Stefan automatically defended, glaring.  “And I’ve really got to go.”

“Can I give you a ride?” Matt offered hesitantly.  “It can’t be comfortable carrying . . . Damon . . . around like that across town.”

Stefan deliberated but finally agreed, if only to answer enough of their questions to keep them from spreading rumors.  “Sure.  Thanks.”

Damon, even at two, raised an eyebrow.  An inherited gift then, Stefan mused as he climbed into the truck.  Under his breath, he tried to whisper a plan into Damon’s ear.  “We’re going to pretend you’re my kid so there are less questions,” _and no one tries to take you away from me,_ went unsaid.  “Go along with whatever I say, okay?”

Damon bobbed his head.  “Okay, Dumb-Dumb.  Only this time though.”

Despite himself, Stefan asked why only this one time.

Damon’s lips parted into a delighted smile.  “’Cause your plans stink.”

Stefan rolled his eyes.

They settled in the backseat with Damon clutched in Stefan’s restraining arms, and Matt and Tyler sitting up in the front seat together.  There was an awkward quiet for about ten seconds; then Tyler opened his mouth.

“So, the fact you knocked somebody up is a pretty big thing you left out yesterday during our sharing and caring session,” He drawled.

“Well, you don’t just say that you had a kid at sixteen in your first conversation,” Stefan said coolly.

“He’s gotta be what, two?” Matt asked, keeping his eyes on the road.  “Which would have made you . . . fifteen instead of sixteen?”

Stefan shook his head.  “Sixteen.  I got held back a year because it’s difficult to raise a baby when you’re in school and the mother is dead,” Stefan replied.  Damon blinked.

Matt quieted.  “Sorry, man.”

Tyler went silent as well, though not apologetic.  Stefan gave Matt directions to the boarding house and they dropped him off.

Plans were already forming in Stefan’s head, in light of apparently permanent situation, and he was going to have to compel Caroline, Bonnie and Elena all to forget Damon’s previous presence.  It would take _a lot_ of animal blood.

“See you in school tomorrow?” Matt asked as Damon ran towards the front door, making his vrooming car sounds all the way, arms stuck out like a plane.

“Maybe not,” Stefan shrugged.  “I found out today that my uncle doesn’t really care for Damon,” which was the understatement of the _year_ , “and I don’t really have anyone to watch him.”

“What did you do before?” Matt’s brows furrowed.

“My father helped out.”  Ha.  The idea of their father volunteering to watch Damon was laughable.  For as long as Stefan could remember, their father had treated Damon with less care as one did a disliked pet.

Matt nodded silently.  “You should look around for a sitter, then, man.  You can’t get any more behind in school if you’ve already been held back a year.”

“I’ll look for someone,” Stefan said noncommittally and waved goodbye to the teenage boys, watching them pull out of the drive.

“Dumb-dumb!” Damon called, “Hungry!” 

“Coming, Damon,” Stefan replied and turned back towards his brother and his nephew.

.

.

.

Since Mystic Falls was so tiny, it had only one department store within a ten minute radius, and so Stefan went there to purchase Damon some toys and other miscellaneous toddler necessities almost immediately after Matt and Tyler dropped them off.  He was going to buy everything they needed and then he was going to freak out about Damon being a human child permanently, but only after everything was taken care of.  Money wasn’t a particularly large issue, considering he had a lot put back (not to mention Damon’s stashes) from stocks and bonds and odd jobs he picked up.

At the department store, Stefan grabbed a buggy and put a squirming Damon into the front child’s seat and ignored the toddler’s pouting.

“Down!” Damon commanded loudly as they passed the magazine aisle. 

“You’ve got to sit there so you don’t get lost,” Stefan explained patiently. 

“Down!” His shout attracted the attention of a young pregnant couple in line to check out.  The woman cooed at Damon and the man looked at Stefan with sympathy.  Stefan nodded at them and hurried passed, not eager to talk about the beauty of childbirth with nervous and excited first time parents.  They went to the children’s section, close to the food and the shoes, and began to pick out pull-ups, which were a major necessity.  He saw some plastic training potties and shrugged, grabbing one of those too.

“Lion!” Damon suddenly called and Stefan’s head swiveled to look at what was wrong.  Damon’s hands were outstretched, reaching for a plush lion and lioness.  “Lion, Dumb-Dumb,” Damon said urgently.  “I want it!”  More amused than anything, Stefan left his brother in the buggy to grab the two lions, handing them to Damon.  “Tree,” Damon insisted. “I want tree Lannisters.”

“Do you really need three?” Stefan wheedled.

Damon wasn’t charmed.  “Tree!”

Stefan got three lions.

Clothes were next, which Stefan bought an abundance of.  Most of the clothes had large animated images on the fronts, which neither Stefan nor Damon liked overmuch.  He managed to find a faux leather jacket that Damon latched onto, along with dark child’s jeans; of the latter, Stefan got several pairs.  Stefan tried to find mostly plain things with different colors, and then moved on to another aisle.

Strollers were good, right? Stefan wondered.  “Do you want a stroller, Damon?”

Damon stretched his neck upwards and stared at the stroller Stefan indicated.  He turned big questioning blue eyes onto Stefan.  “Vroom?”

“Vroom,” Stefan agreed and got one that was size appropriate.  Their buggy was becoming overloaded very quickly, so Stefan decided to quickly finish up.  They searched for various other things, but somehow ended up at the toy aisle again at the end of their shopping trip, where Damon demanded several more plushies.

Disinclined to handle his brother throwing a tantrum in the store, Stefan complied easily enough and Damon was smug the entire ride home.

.

.

.

Friday came eventually and with it the trio of ladies Stefan needed to visit.  He spent the day indulging of deer blood so he’d be as strong as he could be to compel them.  He visited Caroline first.

She was surprised to see him.

“Damon asked me to talk to you,” Stefan explained and the blonde girl immediately invited him inside.  He sat her down and she looked questioningly at him.  “ _You’ve never heard of Damon Salvatore.  You hung out with an out-of-towner for a few days, but it was just a fling. You’ve never heard of Damon Salvatore.”_

Her eyes were dazed as she repeated, “I’ve never heard of Damon Salvatore.”

.

.

.

When he visited Elena, he had to swipe the necklace first.

_“You’ve never heard of Damon Salvatore . . .”_

“I’ve never heard of Damon Salvatore . . .”

.

.

.

For Bonnie, Stefan went to Sheila.

“I need you to do a memory charm and convince her to not say anything about Damon,” He persuaded, “She’s a witch, so I can’t compel her.”

“Which I assume you already did to the Misses Elena and Caroline,” Sheila cocked her hip.

Stefan didn’t flinch.  “It was necessary.  I have to erase any presence Damon might have had to no one is exposed, Sheila.  It’s really strange if my older brother disappears only for me to suddenly have a son that looks exactly like him.”

Sheila narrowed her eyes at him.  “Your debts are piling up, Mister Salvatore.  Just remember, one day I might collect.”

Stefan nodded, somber and grateful.

.

.

.

On Sunday evening, Stefan and Damon were settled in the living room of the boarding house.  Zach was asleep up the stairs.

“Vroom, vroom!” Damon ran around the living room, arms stuck out.  “Imma airplane!  Lookit, Stefan!”

“I’m looking,” Stefan assured as he turned a page in his book.  Suddenly, he found himself with a lap full of child and big blue eyes were staring up at him.  “What?”

“Read to me,” Damon commanded imperially. 

“What am I reading?” Stefan asked curiously.

“Call of the Wild,” Damon sniffed.

“Okay,” Stefan nodded. “Go on and get it then.” Damon disappeared and was back in a flash, book in hand. 

“Alright, so let’s  see . . .”

“Start at the beginning,” Damon demanded.

“Of course,” Stefan rolled his eyes and began, “ _Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tidewater dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamship and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted dogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by which to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost . . .”_

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.

.

Monday morning came sooner than anticipated, and with it arrived the problem of where to keep Damon during the day.  Obviously Stefan didn’t need to go to school, but if he planned to have a normal life in Mystic Falls (and he’d invested too much now to not), he had to and he’d already missed almost an entire week.  Zach was out of the question for childcare, for the man had absolutely refused to have anything to do with his “uncle” Damon, and Stefan didn’t really know anyone besides him and Sheila well enough in town.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Stefan Salvatore,” The elderly witch said when he showed up on her doorstep for the fourth time in one week.  “Don’t you have any friends?”

“Um,” He said eloquently as Damon shook his head in the negative.

“Dumb-Dumb aren’t very good at that,” The toddler whispered loudly and Stefan scowled down at him where the little boy was clutching Stefan’s hand.

Sheila quirked her lips at the Salvatore brothers.  “Fine.  Today.  I’ll see if there’s someone I know that will be willing to keep an eye on him after this.  Come on, Damon.”  She reached out a hand and the toddler hesitated, eyes shooting up to Stefan’s face.

“It’s fine,” Stefan reassured him.  “I’ll be back at three thirty.  Promise.”

“Not a scaredy-cat,” Damon proclaimed haughtily and stuck up his nose.  “I knew that.” And he stepped over the Bennett threshold and left Stefan on the porch.  Sheila cackled.

“Have fun at school,” She said dryly. 

.

.

.

Stefan did not have fun at school as such.

Somehow Matt and Tyler attached themselves to his side the moment he arrived on campus, and thus made it extremely awkward to attempt conversation with Elena, who was standing in a group with Caroline and Bonnie anyway.  She shot him a grin that quickly turned into a confused look as she took in Stefan’s entourage.  He shrugged at her.

“The school is trying to find a new football coach,” Matt was saying, “and I was wondering if you were still going to be on the team when that happens.”

“Of course he is,” Tyler said smoothly, “right, Stefan?”

The other boy was cocky and arrogant, clearly used to always getting his way.  “Maybe,” Stefan said, mostly to see Tyler’s smirk turn into a scowl.  “I’m worried about leaving Damon without me for so long.”  It was true; who knew what shenanigans Damon would get up to at Sheila’s or any other sitter’s for that matter?  It was better if Stefan was there to keep an eye on him.

“Dude, no,” Tyler intervened, “You weaseled your way onto the team, so you’re going to _stay_ on the team.”

This, okay, was a little fair.

“But Damon . . .”

“I’m sure Elena’s Aunt Jenna wouldn’t mind watching him,” Matt intervened.  “She seems . . . good with kids.”

Stefan wasn’t so sure.

.

.

.

It turned out that Jenna was happy to keep an eye on Damon during the day, as long as she got paid because she did have other things to do.  Since both Damon and Stefan had money stashed all over the country (alright, multiple countries), that was easy to arrange.  Damon was more or less pleased with this new plan; he got a cuddly, beautiful woman to watch over him who would coo and pretty much let him play all day as he pleased (and did not make sardonic comments like Stefan was prone to do).

This also meant that Stefan had to explain that Damon was his “son” to Elena and Jenna.

“And you’re just now telling me this?” Elena’s face was pulled into a severe frown as Damon played with a stuffed wolf he’d named Ned.  The wolf had a large family of other stuffed wolves, all of which had to be towed around all day in his blue backpack, less tantrums be commenced. 

“What’s this one called?” Stefan heard Jenna ask the toddler.

“Ned Stark’s bastard,” Damon said seriously.

Stefan coughed and turned back to Elena and her arched brows. 

Elena didn’t give any indication that she’d heard Damon’s naming and was unmoved on her initial question.  “Well?”

“I didn’t want to scare you away,” Stefan said.  “Babies can be scary, especially when you’re in high school.”

Elena softened.  “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” She murmured and cradled his face into her hands.  “I think he’s sweet.”

“-And this lion is Queen Cersei and she tried to kill Bran here-”

“Do you let him watch HBO?”

“Time to go,” Stefan announced and swooped down and picked Damon up, along with his backpack of stuffed toys.  “See you tomorrow, Elena, Jenna.  Jeremy.” Jeremy saluted from his place on the stairs, probably high.

Stefan frowned.  He needed to either a) keep Jeremy away from Damon or b) make the other teenager stop doing pot.

Either or would be difficult.

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.

.

“Hey, Jeremy.”

As if the group was collectively controlled by one brain, the entire stoner clique turned their heads to stare at Stefan (Stefan Salvatore, the new junior who coifed his hair, wore black leather jackets, dark jeans, and biker boots and apparently, was a baby daddy).  They were all gathered in the student and faculty dubbed ‘stoner pit.’

“Um, hi.” Jeremy gave a short wave, confused at Stefan’s seemingly random presence.

“Who’s your friend, Jer?” An older girl who sat at Jeremy’s side asked.

“Just a guy my sister is seeing,” Jeremy told her, “and he’s not really my friend, Vick.”

“I was hoping we could talk?” Stefan asked hesitantly.

“Want some pot, man?” One of the stoner kids asked.  “You gotta pay like everybody else.”

“No thanks,” Stefan assured him, “um, dude.”  Jeremy face palmed even as the others giggled.  He hopped up and followed Stefan away from the stoner pit.

“So, what do you want?” Jeremy demanded.  “By the way, don’t ever say ‘dude’ again.  It just sounds weird when you say it.”

“Sorry,” Stefan nodded, “I wanted to ask you something, though.”

Jeremy waited.  “Yeah?”

“Could you . . . lay off the drugs?” Stefan asked cautiously.

Jeremy’s face immediately closed off.  “Elena sent you over here, didn’t she?!” He growled.

“No,” Stefan shook his head, “She didn’t.”

“She did!” He accused.  “Well, just tell her that she can’t run my life and that I’ll do whatever I want to get over Mom and Dad’s deaths!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Stefan said quietly and put a reassuring hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, which the younger boy shrugged off huffily. 

“Get out of my face, man,” Jeremy tried to brush passed Stefan, but the vampire had had enough.

“Listen,” Stefan snapped and he grabbed Jeremy’s bicep in a grip that he knew the human would be unable to shake off.  “I need you to lay off the drugs around Damon.  One, you’re being a bad influence, and two, you’re dangerous when you’re high; you have no idea what you’re doing and whatever inhibitions you have when sober, they’re gone when high.  And I really don’t want you to accidentally hurt Damon when you’re cruising around out of your mind.”

Jeremy’s eyes, so similar to Elena’s sweet brown ones, widened in shock.

“Do you understand me?” Stefan asked grimly.  “I won’t tell your aunt about your problem, even though Elena probably already has, as long as you at least stop doing that stuff when Jenna is watching Damon.”

Finally, Jeremy nodded his acceptance.  “O-okay.”

Stefan let go.  “Thank you.”  He brushed off Jeremy’s shoulder and then hefted his messenger bag up onto his shoulder again.  “Have a nice day.” 

.

.

.

“What did you do to my brother?” Elena asked one day in their history class.  They were waiting for their new substitute teacher to arrive; the last one had left town as soon as he’d realized what exactly had happened to the last history teacher (i.e. animal attack).

“What do you mean?” Stefan asked a little sharply.

Elena arched her brows.  “I’m pretty sure he’s been sober for the last week, which he hasn’t been since the accident.”

“Really?” Stefan asked, intrigued. 

Elena nodded and looked at him with anticipation.

“I didn’t do anything.” Stefan looked back down to his notebook.

“Good morning, class, I’m your substitute teacher for today.”  They looked up to see an elderly man, maybe in his early to mid-seventies, limp into the classroom and write on the chalk board.  “You can call me Mister Roberson.”

“I know you did something,” Elena whispered again, “and I just wanted to say . . . thank you.”

“Young lovers in the back, would you please pay attention?  Thank you.”

Stefan and Elena exchanged amused glances before settling in to listen to the lecture.

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.

.

Stefan road home with Elena that day, one of the few that football practice and cheerleading didn’t take up their time, eager to see how Damon was doing.  His brother, despite having memories of his past life as a vampire and even as a human before that, had easily settled into the behaviors and routines of a toddler.  His emotional range and comprehension was average, as far as two to three year olds went, but there were times when his old brother would peek through and Stefan particularly liked those moments.

When they arrived, Damon was playing in the living room while Jenna was running around the kitchen. 

“Damon,” Stefan greeted as Elena went to her aunt.

“Dumb-Dumb!” Damon grinned.  Stefan fought the urge to roll his eyes.  Every one of his friends giggled whenever Damon called him that.   (The negative connotations both brothers felt at the term “Father” or “Dad” kept them from addressing Stefan as such, even in company, but the awkwardness was also a small factor).

“How was your day?” Stefan asked as he leant down to scoop Damon up into his arms.  The curly haired youth was a bundle of barely suppressed energy and.

“Good, ‘cept a man came over and flirted with Jen and he’s a comin’ back later tonight,” Damon told him, mouth running a mile a minute.

Stefan arched his brows.  “I’m sure he was just a friend of Aunt Jenna’s.”

“ _Special_ friend,” Damon said and the inflection on special was unmistakable.  Stefan’s lips twitched.

“Stefan, why don’t you and Damon stay for dinner?” Jenna called, “I’m making something special and there’s a guest coming over.”

“Told you,” Damon hissed as Stefan and he went to the kitchen.

“What Jenna means is that she has a date with an ex and she’s too afraid to be alone with him yet,” Elena said wryly, “so she’s trying to get as many people to stay as possible.  Sorry, Stefan, I’ve got to stay.  If you would too, I’ll try to think of something fun to do some other time.”

“I don’t know . . .” Stefan hesitated.  On the one hand, it had to be difficult for Damon to keep quiet about the vampirism and secrets all day and their only time to be really truthful was at home, but yet again, Zach and his disapproval was what awaited them. . .

“Please,” Jenna begged.  “I am an excellent cook.  Sometimes.”

“Alright,” Stefan allowed and Damon wiggled until he was on the ground again.  The toddler ran back into the living room and began to play again.  “Let me help you make something at least . . .”

At six o’clock on the dot, the doorbell rang.

“He’s here,” Jeremy intoned as he slouched into a chair.  “Yay.”

“Such enthusiasm,” Elena drawled and ruffled his hair.  “I’ll get it.”  She left to get the door.

“Damon, come on and eat,” Stefan called and moment later, a dark curly head appeared by Stefan’s chair and blue eyes stared at him.

“Up,” The toddler demanded haughtily and Stefan put him into the highchair next to him.  Damon scowled.  “Not here,” He whined.

“Well, you’re not sitting on my lap or the floor,” Stefan countered.  “So where else are you going to sit?” Damon pouted.

“Well, hello Jenna,” A smooth voice greeted and had Damon and Stefan turning their heads to look at its owner.  “Who are these?”

“Hi Logan,” Jenna waved.  “Come on and sit down.  You know Elena and Jeremy, and this is Stefan Salvatore and his son, Damon.  Stefan is Elena’s boyfriend and I babysit Damon pretty often.”

Logan looked at Stefan critically, while the vampire stiffened.  “A Salvatore, eh?  Any relation to Zach?”

“He’s my uncle,” Stefan confirmed.

“Ah, yes,” Logan nodded, “He hasn’t talked about you often, but Zach _has_ mentioned you.  Didn’t say anything about a baby though . . .” The smile on his face was plastic, and the man’s whole body language screamed fake.

“Well, that’s not his business to share.” The muscles in Stefan’s back were taut but he forced a slight smile.

“Okay, well, now that introductions are over,” Jenna clapped and forced a smile.  “Let’s all sit down and have a good time.”

“Sure,” Jeremy rolled his eyes.  “I’m sure we’ll all be _great_ friends.”

They did not all become great friends; Logan Fell was a weasel and he started out the evening by mentioning the murders that had been happening around the town.

“The killings have stopped, did you notice?” He asked with a forkful of chicken parmesan.  

“I did, actually,” Jenna nodded and no one noticed the discreet glances Stefan and Damon shared.  “Did they figure out what was doing it?”

“A mountain lion, I thought,” Stefan interceded, eager to discuss a new topic that didn’t involve Damon’s dead victims, and Logan gave him a slow grin.

“Yes, that was it exactly, Stefan.” Logan nodded. “You watch the news?”

“Some, yes,” Stefan answered, already regretting saying anything at all.

“I mean, you must, what with having a child to look after and everything; you’ve got to know what’s out there,” Logan continued.

“I suppose,” Stefan replied slowly.

Logan nodded slowly and took another bite of his chicken.  “So,” Jenna asked with put on cheer, “um, who wants wine?” Taking another look at her dinner table and seeing four underage children, amended her words.  “Logan, do you want some wine?  Yeah?  Let me get that.”

“I actually need to use the restroom.” Logan cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” Jenna nodded, “It’s just upstairs and to the left.  Do you need someone to show you?”

“No, I think I’ve got it,” Logan grinned and hopped up.  Jenna went back into the kitchen while Logan went up the stairs.  Elena and Jeremy quieted talked and Stefan frowned, listening as Logan opened several drawers, clearly searching for something other than the bathroom.

“Stefan?” Elena asked, concerned.

“It’s nothing,” Stefan shook his head.  “I just thought I heard something.”

Moments later, Jenna came back and poured herself and Logan some wine.  Shortly thereafter, Logan joined them again, looking satisfied, and started some more awkward conversation.  When the evening ended, Stefan wasn’t sure if he’d ever had a weirder dinner in his life, what with his de-aged brother posing as his son, his girlfriend and her brother and their aunt, along with a suspicious newscaster who asked entirely too many questions.

.

.

.

“So, Elena said that you guys talked, got to know one another pretty well,” Tyler started the next afternoon at the Grill.  He, Matt, and Stefan played pool, while Damon whispered strategies to Stefan from a tall wooden chair.

“Yeah,” Stefan said slowly.

“Leave it, Tyler,” Matt warned, though there was a slight smile on his face as he said it.

“You had dinner at her place with the family and Logan Fell,” Tyler continued, “and she talked to Matt, who told me some stuff you hadn’t told us.”

“Like what?” Stefan wondered as he lined up his shot.

“Like the fact you like ‘that one Miley song’,” Tyler smirked. 

Stefan had to roll his eyes at the juvenile tone of glee in the other boy’s voice.  “So?”

“You don’t just admit to stuff like that, man,” Tyler groaned, “not if you’re a man, and certainly not to your girl.”

“Elena thought it was funny,” Stefan shrugged.

“She was laughing at you, Dumb-Dumb,” Damon pointed out.

“See, the kid agrees,” Tyler said victoriously.

Damon scowled.  “I’m tree.”

“I thought you were two?” Matt frowned.

“I said _almost tree_ ,” Damon sniffed.

Tyler interrupted.  “What’s Logan Fell coming over here for?” He frowned.  “He’s got some kind of pocket watch and pointing it at us.  What the hell?”  Stefan frowned and looked up; Logan Fell indeed was striding towards them with a pocket watch.  But, no . . . it was a compass.

“That’s a compass,” Stefan pointed out.

“Not the point, dude,” Tyler snapped.  Which, yeah, Stefan could concede that wasn’t the point to _Tyler_. Logan Fell, still a good five to seven feet away, pointed the compass at each boy in turn, frowning until it landed onto Stefan.

“Huh.”

“Is there something we can do for you, Mister Fell?” Matt asked, unwaveringly polite, even when adult men were pointing strange objects at them.

“Not at all, boys, not at all.” Logan gave them a grin and he practically leered at Stefan.

“That was weird,” Tyler glowered.

“Dumb-Dumb,” Damon whined and Stefan turned to look at his brother.  The toddler’s face was flushed red and he appeared genuinely distressed.  “Steffie.”

“I like how your kid never calls you _Dad_ ,” Tyler deadpanned, who had his own daddy issues.

“Tyler, shut up,” Stefan muttered distractedly and he moved to pick Damon up from his chair next to the pool table.  “What’s the matter?” He murmured.

“Home, Dumb-Dumb,” Damon demanded, “home, first.”  Going cold and having a feeling it had to do with Logan Fell’s recent presence, Stefan nodded and excused himself and Damon from Matt and Tyler’s company.  He and Damon quickly left the Grill and Damon explained as well as he could what the problem was.

“He’s gotta compass,” Damon said seriously.

“And?” Stefan asked seriously.

“It points to vampires,” Damon said, and the _duh_ was clearly implied.

“How do you know?”

“It spun and pointed at you inside, and I saw it in 1864,” Damon boasted his knowledge. 

“That must have been what he was looking for last night,” Stefan muttered.  “We have to get it away –”

“I don’t think so, Mister Salvatore,” Logan Fell drawled and a gun cocked behind him.  “Stop.  Put your hands where I can see them.”  They were in a darkened alley and slowly, Stefan turned around with Damon clutched tightly in his arms.  The toddler appeared unafraid yet, blue eyes challenging, but Stefan’s heart was in his throat.

“I don’t know where you got a child,” Logan continued, “but I’ll make sure the keep an eye on him after you’re gone.” He tilted his head.  “Or at least interrogate him within the inch of his life.”

Damon shuddered and Stefan saw red.  The gun went off with a muffled bang and there was an indescribable pain in Stefan’s gut that forced him to drop straight the ground.  Damon screamed and started to cry big bawling sobs while Stefan choked on his own blood.  Logan stalked forwards and he pulled out a wooden stake.

As the world began to grey, Stefan found the strength to surge forwards and punch Logan’s kneecap; the bone shattered on impact.  There were footsteps running towards them and Stefan quickly tried to rise.  Damon was still screaming; snot and tears were all over his face and Stefan rapidly tried to take care of him and the bullet in his gut.

“What happened – Stefan?” Matt was suddenly crouched next to Stefan and Tyler checking out Logan’s writhing form.

“His knee is screwed,” Tyler announced.

Stefan choked and spat blood.  He dug into his stomach and pulled out the bullet.  “Wooden,” He muttered.

“Stefan!” Damon wailed and he was quickly enveloped into a tight hug by his brother.

“I’ve got you.”

“You want to tell us what the hell just happened?” Matt asked while Tyler subdued Logan.

Stefan swallowed.

.

.

.

Tyler and Matt were dead quiet and Stefan fought the urge to scratch the back of his neck in anxiety.  Damon was asleep on his shoulder, tired from his tears, and Stefan’s gut was still tender from the gunshot wound.  It was still healing and wouldn’t finish closing up until he got some more blood into his system, which he couldn’t do until he was sure that the two boys in front of him wouldn’t go off blabbing his secret to the town’s “secret” council.

“How can you go out into the sunlight?” Tyler demanded suspiciously.  They hadn’t even believed him until Stefan had shown the boys his partially healed would and then his fangs for good measure.  Matt had wanted to leave immediately, frightened, but surprisingly, Tyler had urged him to stay and find out more.

“I have a daylight ring made by a witch that was a friend to my sire,” Stefan explained quietly and rocked Damon a little.  They’d moved from the alleyway quite a bit earlier to the town square, which was lit by street lights and was silent.

“How do you have a kid?” Matt asked gruffly.

“He’s actually my brother,” Stefan admitted, “but he was turned into a human child by a witch who felt she’d been wronged by him.  Unfortunately, it’s permanent and he’ll grow up normally.”  He added, “Again,” as if an afterthought.  “You thought he was my son, so I went with that story because it’s easier.”

“All of those killings that happened, was that you?” Tyler demanded with narrowed eyes.

“No,” Stefan shook his head and then prepared to lie. “It was a vampire passing through.  I encouraged him to move on.”  He answered each and every question the boys had about him and the supernatural, omitting anything that would damn Damon in their eyes.  He didn’t want them to judge his brother, now that he was helpless and relied on Stefan to protect him.

“You don’t have to trust me or even talk to me ever again,” Stefan said now, grave.  “But I need you to not say anything to anyone.”

“Elena doesn’t know,” Matt said tiredly, “does she?”

“No.” Stefan shook his head.

Tyler cracked his knuckles and Matt met Stefan’s gaze.  “You tell her what you are, and I swear Tyler and I will never say anything to anyone, no matter what.”

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.

.

Telling Elena went about as well as expected, which meant it went terribly, and by the end of it Stefan had lost a girlfriend and a babysitter because Elena would no longer have Damon or Stefan anywhere near her aunt again. 

“Stefan Salvatore, I thought you’d gotten someone to watch that boy,” Sheila Bennett said dryly when Stefan went to visit her before school the next morning.

“Her niece found out I was a vampire and dumped me,” Stefan explained.  “It’s perfectly reasonable and I don’t blame her, but I don’t really trust anyone alone with Damon besides you or Jenna.”  The toddler was playing in the mud by Sheila’s bushes as they spoke, dragging a dirty finger across each cheek and leaving a brown line apiece under his eyes.  Ned the wolf had joined him in his exploits that morning.

Stefan rolled his eyes and turned back to Sheila.

“I’ll pay you,” He offered. 

Sheila sighed.  “It’s no bother, Stefan.  Just find someone else as soon as you can; these old bones can’t keep up with someone with boundless energy like your brother.”

.

.

.

Stefan’s birthday came and went, along with a visit from his best friend, Lexi, who came to celebrate with him.  (Explaining Damon was easier this time; perhaps because he’d explained it already a so often now.)  She talked to Elena against his protests, but her intervention was for the best; Elena started a new tentative relationship with Stefan once more.

“What did she say to you?” Stefan would later ask.

Elena would only shrug, mum.  “I owed you a chance, anyway, because you helped out Jeremy and it’s not like it was you killing people.”

Their routine picked up and was normalized again, with Damon staying with Jenna during school and Stefan had people to sit with at lunch time once more.

.

.

.

Stefan rejoined the football team right the same day that the school found a new history teacher.

“The name is Alaric Saltzman.  You guys can call me Rick.”  He was a young man around his mid-thirties, with sandy hair and a chip the size of a glacier on his shoulder.  He was kind enough to his students, laid back and gave every kid in Tanner’s jackass file another chance, but Stefan recognized the look in his eye that hungered for something that regular small town history teachers didn’t usually want: revenge.

“He’s kind of hot,” Caroline stage whispered to Elena and Bonnie while Stefan was forced to hide a smirk with his jacket collar when the girls fervently agreed.

“Should I be jealous?” He whispered back and Elena leveled him with an amused grin while Bonnie and Caroline continued to giggle.

“Just a little,” Elena teased.  She pinched her pointer finger and thumb a tiny distance a part.

“Am I interrupting something back there . . .” Mr. Saltzman, or rather _Rick,_ called back.  “Miss and Mister . . .”

“Elena Gilbert,” Elena turned back around in her seat to face the front.  “And he’s Stefan Salvatore.”

“Well, Miss Gilbert, Mister Salvatore, I’d ask that you please pay attention in class from now on . . .”

.

.

.

And so life goes on.

Until, of course, more dead bodies started to appear.

.

.

.

“So, what did you want to be when you were a kid?” Elena asked half-seriously as she browsed through the different career stations and college representatives.  Stefan walked with her, always just a half step behind as she led the way through the gymnasium.  Damon was clutched in his arms, tiny hands wrapped around Stefan’s neck to keep him up as he swiveled his head around the room to observe the other students and a few excitable parents.

“A doctor, actually,” Stefan admitted with his shy half-grin and Elena felt the corners of her own mouth turn up in response.

“I guess turning into a vampire ruined those plans,” Elena remarked a little dryly.  Over a few heads, she glimpsed Jeremy looking at an art stand, apparently seriously contemplating something.  Elena turned her head so that her brother wouldn’t see her smile.

“Yeah,” Stefan shrugged.  “I have gone to college before though, to learn and to see what it was like.”

“Oh?” Elena was curious, “Where?”

Stefan mumbled something.  Elena arched a brow, pausing in front of an interior design set up.  The person manning it was busy with another a student, a vaguely familiar girl who’s back was turned.  “What was that?”

“Harvard,” Damon answered for his brother pompously and Elena smirked.

“Thank you, Damon,” She patted his leg and the boy beamed.

“Thanks, Damon,” Stefan pretended to glare.

“No need to be embarrassed, Stefan,” Elena reprimanded. “You’re smart.  And you’ve had like almost two hundred years to accumulate that much information.  When did you go there?”  She asked the last part under her breath.

“The sixties,” Stefan replied as they moved on from interior design to business management.

“Did you go for Medical School?”

“Law, actually.  I studied medical in the fifties.”

“What did you do in the seventies?  Any disco?” Elena teased, but when Stefan said nothing, she did a double take.  “ _Really_?”

“Let’s not talk about this here,” Stefan distracted.  “Look, is that news casting?  There’s Caroline.  And Logan Fell.”

It worked, at least temporarily.  Elena turned her head to glare at the man who had left her aunt high and dry and then who’d attacked Stefan before mysteriously disappearing just before the bodies had begun to turn up again.  The man’s sudden reappearance was terribly auspicious.  They walked over there, only to see Caroline sticking up for herself and shunning Fell (Elena had told her friends of the douche- baggery that was Logan Fell as soon as the man had left).

Logan’s eyes landed hungrily on Stefan’s face and he prowled towards him.  Stefan very deliberately gave Damon to Elena, though neither seemed terribly displeased.  “Take him over to the auto mechanics or something,” Stefan whispered.  “I’ll see what Logan wants.”

Though frowning, Elena didn’t argue on account of the fact she had Damon in her arms at the moment.  “Be careful.” She disappeared, leaving Stefan waiting for Logan’s arrival.

“Stefan Salvatore,” Logan greeted and Stefan tilted his head in confusion; there was something off about the other man that night, something wrong.  “Just the man I was looking for.”

“Is there something I can help you with?” Stefan asked stiffly.

“Yeah, actually,” Logan was staring greedily at Stefan still, making him uncomfortable.  He leaned in close and said, “You can tell me how you go out into the sun.”

“Or what?” Stefan asked carefully.

Logan’s eyes found Elena and Damon in the crowd and zeroed in on them.  “I’ll take your little brother and slit his throat.  Then I’ll drain his body of blood and leave it somewhere you can find him.”

White hot anger flashed through Stefan’s body and the emotion was so powerful that he could feel his fangs bursting to come through and puncture this man’s neck.  Stefan stepped forwards.  “You want to know how to go out into the sun?”

Logan leaned forward eagerly.

“Follow me,” Stefan told him and he led Logan Fell out of the school and behind the dumpsters of the parking lot.

“Well?  What’s the secret to day walking?” Logan finally burst out.

“You can’t,” Stefan hissed and he pushed Logan up against a wall, one hand at his throat.  “And you aren’t _ever_ going to threaten my brother again.”

“What’s going to stop me?  _You_?”

“This will,” Stefan told him and he pulled a stake out of his messenger bag and rammed it into Logan’s chest cavity.  Logan’s shocked face would be burned into Stefan’s retinas for a long time.  The man greyed and slumped, and Stefan left his body in the dumpster for the police to find.

.

.

.

Later, when Elena had found out about it, she quietly climbed into bed with Stefan and asked him what had happened.  Other than the murders.

“He threatened Damon,” Stefan admitted.

And Elena understood.

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.

.

“So, how’s the kid?” Matt asked awkwardly one day after football practice.  And Stefan thought about it – thought about raising Damon like his own son and unbidden, a smile formed.

“Good,” Stefan told him truthfully.

Matt cracked a smile.  “I’m glad.”

.

.

.

“Steffy,” Damon called and Stefan looked up from his desk in his bedroom.  He’d left Damon to play by himself in his own bedroom, an admittedly poor idea.  “Read to me.”

Stefan put down his journal.  “What are we reading?”

“We’re finishing The Call of the Wild,” Damon told him and grabbed Stefan’s hand and tugged.  Stefan allowed his brother to lead him down the stairs and to the living room, where they settled onto the couch in front of the roaring fire.  Damon shoved the book into Stefan’s hands, and the vampire began to read.

_“In the summers there is one visitor, however, to that valley, of which the Yeehats do not know. It is a great, gloriously coated wolf, like, and yet unlike, all other wolves. He crosses alone from the smiling timber land and comes down into an open space among the trees. Here a yellow stream flows from rotted moose-hide sacks and sinks into the ground, with long grasses growing through it and vegetable mould overrunning it and hiding its yellow from the sun; and here he muses for a time, howling once, long and mournfully, ere he departs._

_But he is not always alone. When the long winter nights come on and the wolves follow their meat into the lower valleys, he may be seen running at the head of the pack through the pale moonlight or glimmering borealis, leaping gigantic above his fellows, his great throat a-bellow as he sings a song of the younger world, which is the song of the pack.”_

Stefan looked down; Damon had fallen asleep in his arms.  He set the book aside and leaned back, placing one large hand onto Damon’s small back.  He thought - he thought about Bonnie’s blooming powers, and Elena’s likeness Katherine; he thought about the killings that had started up once more; there was another vampire in town again.  He’d have to take care it.

It was harder than he thought it would be, raising Damon and dating Elena and taking care of the town.  Oftentimes, he missed his big brother. 

But looking down at Damon’s innocent face, his tiny thumb between rosy lips, Stefan thought that it wasn’t all for naught; his brother got another chance at life, a real _human_ life.  And if that time came when he was old enough to want to turn, Stefan would have that conversation and turn him back. 

But if he wanted to live out his life as a human, die as an elderly man, well, Stefan thought that he’d just have to let him this time.

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.

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Fin.


End file.
